


Battles,  A Broken Sequel

by phantisma



Series: Broken [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-03
Updated: 2008-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several months after <a href="http://phantisma.livejournal.com/188796.html">Out of the Dark</a>, Sam is trying to control his new-found powers, Dean is struggling to find his footing, John is spiraling deeper into depression left behind after his ordeal, Gabe is trying to piece together the strange reports of supernatural activity and recover from his own injuries and all around them the supernatural world is closing in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hurry.” Gabe whispered.

Caleb didn’t answer with words, just worked harder at his task. He could hear the footsteps too. He moved one hand to cup and caress Gabe’s balls while he sucked. It was his stupid mouth that got him into it. It would be his mouth that got him back out.

“He’s almost here.” Gabe said, thrusting up into Caleb’s mouth.

Caleb swallowed and hummed and tried every trick he knew to get Gabe to orgasm, and just when he thought they’d be caught at it, Gabe sputtered and grabbed his head with his good hand, coming quickly.

Allen was almost to the door when Caleb tucked Gabe in and dashed for the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. He shouldn’t let Gabe goad him into stupid games the way he did. He was old enough to know better.

The door to the room opened and he heard Gabe sputter a greeting.

“Brought dinner.” Allen said.

Caleb emerged from the bathroom, wiping his mouth. Gabe had gotten himself turned back toward the computer and was looking like he was busily working on something.

Allen set down bags of take out, his eyes wandering between his son and Caleb. Caleb cleared his throat. “Gabe thinks he found something.”

Allen’s eyebrow raised almost to his hairline, but he took the hint as he started pulling food out of bags. “Whatcha got?”

“Pattern.” Gabe said, his forehead wrinkling as he leaned in to the computer screen. “All the weird shit, like trails, all converging on Laramie.”

“As in, Wyoming?”

Gabe nodded, reaching for the fried rice his father was handing him. “Yeah, and the closer you get, the nastier it gets.” He shoveled rice into his mouth and pointed. “Look, it’s coming down from the north, a trail of hauntings gone seriously bad, demon possession, raw heads, werewolves, spectrals, hellhounds. Then there’s the reports of Fae.”

Allen stopped what he was doing and stared at Gabe. “Fae. As in Fairies?”

Gabe nodded as he chewed. “Spotted and reported all along here.” He pointed out an arc of land west and north of Laramie. He flipped screens to a picture. “Dancy sent me these.” Tall, fierce looking men and women with large dogs could be glimpsed among the redwood trees.

“I’ll be damned.” Allen passed a container of chow mein to Caleb. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it.”

“Whatever it is, this has to be serious if it’s bringing out the Fae.” Caleb said, peering over Gabe’s shoulder. “There hasn’t been a serious sighting of them in nearly 200 years.”

Allen was nodding. “Have you sent this to Sam yet?”

Gabe shook his head. “I want to finish my analysis. I’ll send it in the morning.”

“We’re heading out to the Roadhouse to meet up with Bobby and Joe.” Allan took his box of sweet and sour pork and sat on the bed he’d claimed the night before. “Ellen’s found more of Ash’s old things she wants you to look at.”

Gabe looked up at his father, then to Caleb and back again. “Don’t even think it.”

Caleb sighed and touched his shoulder. “Easy.”

“No.” Gabe stood, pulling away. He hobbled toward the door. “You are not leaving me there while you go off to help Sam.”

“Gabe, you’re still hurt.” Caleb tried, glancing at Allen and willing him to stay out of the argument for once. Gabe always felt like he had to fight harder when Allen got in the middle. “You can barely walk, your arm is still healing.” Caleb moved closer and this time Gabe didn’t pull away. “Rules, remember.” Caleb whispered so that only Gabe could hear.

Gabe’s face was set and hard. “I know rules.” Gabe bit the words out. Then he turned to look Caleb in the eye. He was furious, but starting to soften.

Caleb kissed his cheek. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” He knew Allen was uncomfortable, but he slipped his arms around Gabe and pulled him close. “What would I do without you?”

Gabe melted a little then, sagging against his arms. “You know payback’s a bitch.”

“With teeth.” Caleb breathed into his ear.

 

The breeze was warm as Dean leaned against the hood of the Impala, watching Sam. He couldn’t say he was comfortable with this. The whole thing made him uneasy.

Not Sam. Not even the idea of Sam’s…well, he didn’t know what to call them. Powers? Sounded to dorky. Gifts? That remained to be seen. But this guy helping Sam figure them out and the things he said Sam was capable of…that was what made Dean wonder.

But, that was why they were here, with Derrik somebody-or-other that Sam had met through an old friend of their father’s when they last went through Kansas. Supposedly he could help Sam get a handle on it.

Sam still had a tendency to coddle him, so he wasn’t really sure he still had the whole story. And he had unexpected moments when the programming grabbed him. But, he remembered. Just about everything.

There were holes, which they figured had something to do with the drugs they fed him those first awful months. But he remembered getting drunk, and getting grabbed. He remembered the first dark days, locked in the cage, in the restraints with no food or water, no light, no sound. He remembered the rape and beatings. He remembered Sam coming to buy him and the confusion of trying to be _Dean_ again, when all he remembered how to be was _Nothing, No one, Alone_.

Sam was sweating, but not moving. His eyes were closed. Dean sighed and turned away. He didn’t really want to be here, but he didn’t want to be left alone either. And since they’d dropped their father off at Bobby’s a few days before that’s all that was really left to him.

Sam called this training. Trouble was Dean wasn’t sure what he was training for. What he did know was that Sam said something was coming. Something big. He’d been saying it for months.

He wanted a beer. They were in the middle of nowhere though, the nearest bar almost forty-five minutes away. He sighed and opened the back door of the Impala. Before he’d even gotten his ass on the seat though he heard the rumble of an engine. He turned down the dusty road that led in off the road. It wasn’t quite dark as a dusty blue truck rumbled to a stop beside him.

Pastor Jim looked worn and tired as he got out of the truck, holding his hands up to ward of the argument already lashing out at him from Sam, who was suddenly on his feet and stalking toward the priest. “Sam, calm down.”

“I told you the last time I saw you that I wanted nothing to do with your little cabal.”

“Sam, let me—“

“Did they send you in to placate me while they circle around and cut us off?”

Jim shook his head. “They don’t know I’m here. I’m here for you, Sam. You and Dean.”

Sam spared a glance at Dean, who took a few steps closer, moving so his shoulder was between Sam and Jim. “What’s going on Sam?”

“Remember Des Moines, Dean? After we left Missouri’s. Those were **his** goons.”

“Not mine Sam.”

“The whack jobs that tried to kill us?” Dean remembered that very clearly. Five priests plus muscle, calling Sam the anti-christ. He scowled at Jim. “What’s this about?”

“He works for an organization.” Sam said, practically vibrating with anger. “They try to control people like me, and when they can’t, they kill them.”

“Sam, please.”

Sam crossed his arms and stood quiet while Jim fidgeted.

“I’d like the chance to explain.” Jim said finally, glancing at Dean, then Sam. “But not here. Can we go somewhere?”

Sam squinted at the older man, then seemed to soften. “Yeah, okay. Give us a minute.”

Sam dragged Dean away, out of ear shot. He sighed. “He’s telling the truth, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t followed. We need to be careful.”

“Okay. What about him?” Dean looked to Derrick.

“I was just about done with him anyway. “ Sam pulled a hand through his hair and sighed again.

“You look tired.” Dean said, touching his elbow. “You should sleep.”

Sam smiled weakly. “I will Dean. Tonight. Let’s just deal with this first.”

“Why don’t you go back to the motel. I’ll take a ride with Pastor Jim, get the story.” Sam’s eyes were hazy and now that the anger had drained away, he looked like he was going to fall asleep standing.

Still, Sam shook his head. “No…I need to hear it.”

Dean shook his head in frustration. “Then let’s get it done before you pass out on me.”

 

 

“Huh.” Gabe chewed at his lip as he parsed through the results of his last calculation. He reached for his coffee cup, but it was empty.

“Gabe?” Caleb was squinting at him from the bed nearest the door. Gabe went for the cooler near the door and pulled out a soda, stopping to kiss Caleb’s forehead before going back to the computer. Caleb sat up and reached for him, sighing when he missed. “It’s almost morning. Come to bed.”

Gabe shook his head. “Got more stuff to plug in, emails from Bobby and Emily and the stuff I got from Megan.”

Caleb was up and standing behind him, his hands rubbing at Gabe’s shoulders. “Your arm is never going to finish healing if you don’t stop using it. You heard what the doctor told you.”

Gabe made a face and rubbed his good hand over the smaller, lighter cast that had only just replaced the one that had immobilized his arm from shoulder to fingertips. “It’s fine. Mostly use my other hand.”

Caleb sighed and leaned in, resting his head on Gabe’s. “You’re still mad at me.”

He was, but that wasn’t why he was still up. Well, maybe it was…a little. It was a small rebellion, proof that he wasn’t a child. Which was silly and childish, but for the moment, with his physical condition, it was the best he had.

“Come to bed.” Caleb whispered in his ear, his hands rubbing over Gabe’s shoulders and down on to his arms.

Gabe felt the words all the way down into his belly, his cock stirring as if they could do anything with his father asleep in the next bed. “Yeah, okay. Let me just send the bundle to Sam.”

He zipped up the files and sent it all out Sam before he closed his laptop and let Caleb lead him to the bed. He was tired. It had been a long couple of days. He sat on the bed and Caleb handed him a glass of water and two pills. He started to shake his head, but Caleb clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I know you’re hurting Gabe, I can tell. Take the pills, get some sleep.”

Gabe sighed and conceded, swallowing down the pills and letting Caleb tuck him in before he moved around to the other side of the bed and crawled in. Gabe rolled toward him, his casted arm laying across Caleb’s chest as he closed his eyes and settled in to sleep.

 

 

Sam was exhausted as he pulled himself into the diner. Dean was watching him wearily, watching and not happy about it. Jim was already sitting at a booth. Sam stopped at the door, holding his head. It was pounding again. He’d over exerted himself.

He wouldn’t mind it, if he were getting anything resembling control. He’d learned little things, but he’d be lying if he said he knew how to keep himself from exploding. He was holding on, but only barely, and he knew it.

Jim looked up as they approached and Sam slid into the booth, grateful for the cup of coffee already steaming in front of him. Dean slid in beside him, one hand landing protectively on Sam’s thigh.

“You look like shit, Sam.” Jim said, sipping at his own coffee.

“Tired.” Sam said before he squinted up at Jim. There was something different about him, sad…a little lost. Jim cleared his throat and distracted Sam from digging for it.

“Derrick Mains is good at what he does, but he’s not helping you. He can’t help you.”

Sam wanted to be angry, wanted to tell the priest to fuck off, but he was right. “I know. It was worth a shot.”

Jim pressed his lips together and nodded. “How’s your head?”

Sam rubbed at it self consciously. “It hurts.” He sighed in frustration. “You said you had something to tell me. Something to explain.”

Jim nodded. “Yeah, okay. So Quem Patrocinorus is the name of the organization. It’s made up of priests and other religious leaders, scholars, historians. It predates the church. But the highest levels are a part of the church hierarchy now.” He looked uncomfortable, fidgeting in his seat. “We…they are tasked with keeping mankind safe.”

“Safe?” Dean asked, his voice laced with anger. “From what?”

“From people like me.” Sam said softly. “If I understand correctly, they seek out children like me and try to teach them to control their power, train them not to use it, or to use it only in specific situations.”

Jim nodded slowly. “Only, to our knowledge there’s never been one like you Sam.” He blew out slowly and on the moist breath, Sam could taste that sadness again, a loss of something important. “I was recruited right out of seminary. I believed in the goals, in what we were doing. I was assigned to your mother.”

Sam hadn’t expected that. He sat back and looked at Dean. “Mom? Why?”

“She was…special. Gifted really. She slipped through the cracks, and when we’d found her it was too late to train her. But, she seemed to have a natural control, a sense of balance that kept her gifts in check. I don’t think she even knew she had them. I was supposed to take over from the priest before me, but she died only a few days after I arrived in Lawrence.”

“So you’re duty fell to watching me instead?” Sam asked, watching Jim nod wearily. “You, and Dean. If your mother was one, it stood to reason that one of you would be too. That was a long time ago, before I knew the whole story. My job was to watch, and if you showed signs, take you to the center where you’d be trained.”

“But I never did.” Sam pulled his coffee to him, dumping sugars into it before lifting it to his lips. “Because the demon got in the middle and did something to block them.”

Jim nodded. “And the exorcism broke down that wall and your power came roaring out of you. I’d never seen anything like it Sam.” He leaned forward, fixing Sam with his eyes. “It made me rethink things. I did some research, re-ran your mother’s genealogy, your father’s. There was a reason your mother slipped through our fingers. A reason why she didn’t seem to be aware of her gifts.”

“She was blocked like I was.” Sam said. “He did it. Blocked her so you wouldn’t know.”

Jim nodded. “I think he’s done it a lot. In fact, I have evidence that indicates he’s been planning for you.”

Sam shook his head. His thought processes were slow and he wasn’t sure of the information he was getting from his extra senses. “Wait. Wait. What are you saying?”

“Quem Patrocinorus was formed in the dark before time to safeguard secrets that have never been spoken outside the sacred boundaries of our brotherhood.”

“Secrets you plan on sharing?” Dean asked. His anger was ratcheting up. Sam could feel it.

Jim nodded tightly. “I do, Dean. I just…” He looked out at the dark parking lot. “I need to…make sure we’re safe first.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “Meet me here tomorrow. Around 3pm. Get some sleep, cover your tracks, and meet me. I’ll tell you everything.”

Dean was pulling on him, pulling him from the booth. Sam couldn’t stop the yawn as he stood, then suddenly he placed it…the sad emanating off of Jim, the profound sense of loss. He turned, his eyes wide. “You left.”

Jim nodded, looking away.

“What, the organization?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. “The church.”

“I didn’t belong there any more Sam. You boys get some rest.”

Sam let Dean support him out to the car. “We have to be careful Dean. It’s coming fast.” He could almost see it. Would see it when he closed his eyes. When he slept.

 

 

 

“You ever getting that sorry ass of yours out of that bed?”

John didn’t look up at Bobby, didn’t turn away from staring at the scars on his hands. He heard Bobby move in closer. “I got word of a hunt that needs doing.”

John took a deep breath. “I’m in no shape for hunting.”

“Won’t ever be you keep sitting there feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m not your type.” Bobby moved around to the end of the bed. “Seriously, you been moping long enough. Time to get back into the fight.”

John shook his head at that. He didn’t even know anymore what the fight was for, what it was about. The lines had all blurred the moment he saw his son the way the demon… **the** demon…saw his son. He no longer knew what was true and what was lie, what was deception. Demons lie, he knew that…but this…this was different. This was what John saw and felt from the demon inside him.

_”Can you see him, John? All that power…he’s going to be mine, John…and with his body, his power…I’m going to rule this world._

And John had seen. Sam was…he wasn’t the boy John had raised. He was teetering on the brink, and when he fell, the world would fall with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several months after [Out of the Dark](http://phantisma.livejournal.com/188796.html), Jim finally tells Sam and Dean the story of the Quem Patrocinorus and what it is that they are defending the world against. In the process Sam and Dean learn who and what they are, though whether that is helpful or not in the long run still can't be seen. Gabe, Caleb and Allen show up at the Roadhouse, where Jo learns why it is that Gabe never did respond to the flirting she was doing.

The place was as safe as he could make it. Hallowed ground wasn’t enough when your enemies included fellow priests. Jim shook his head and pulled at the empty collar of his shirt. Fellow wasn’t exactly the right word anymore. 

Still, it was a start, and Jim was fortunate that the old priest who ran this parish trusted him. The brotherhood wasn’t pleased with him, and likely suspected he would tell Sam everything. It was the only explanation for how quickly it all fell apart after he resigned. 

He hadn’t intended to leave the priesthood, only the brotherhood…but within an hour of his resignation, Jim Murphy found himself without a home, sanctioned by the church and asked to leave the parish that had been his home since shortly after Sam was born.

He’d been on the run for weeks, trying to find Sam and Dean, trying not to end up dead. Now, he was ready to stand his ground. He was done running. The small church was surrounded by charms and protections against far more than just demons.

It was only minutes until three. Jim stood on the front step of the church waiting. He didn’t have to wait long. The sound of the Impala’s engine made him tense. This wasn’t going to be easy, and with Sam strung as tight as he was, with his powers as close to out of control as they were, it could be dangerous besides.

He took a deep breath as the car came to a stop and Dean got out from behind the wheel, his eyes scanning the place, then Jim. Sam emerged a little slower, his eyes narrowing directly on Jim.

His walk was stiff, and he seemed to be favoring the leg he’d broken in their escape the year before as he made his way up the walk. His eyes sparkled as he stopped on the top step. “Afraid of something?” His tone was cold, but it wasn’t like Jim was his most welcoming either.

“Yes, I am. Let’s get on inside, before something shows up.”

Dean placed a hand on Sam’s hip to steady him as Jim led them in, through the sanctuary and into Father Perina’s office. “My friend is at the convent down the road, hearing confessions. We have about an hour before he gets back.” He sat and gestured to the other chairs. “I’m sorry it had to be like this.”

He looked up, surprised a little by the dark circles he could see now under Sam’s eyes, the shake in his hand. As if sensing his thoughts, Dean nodded. “It was a rough night.”

Jim nodded and took a deep breath. “Are you…okay?”

Sam shivered, hugging his arms around himself. “Fine. Just tired. We’re here. Talk.” 

“Okay.” Jim sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “I owe you an apology Sam. Both of you, I guess.” He was nervous. The information he was about to share had never been spoken outside of vows, and never to someone like Sam. If there had ever been someone like Sam. He was beginning to think Sam was unique. “To tell you what I know, I have to begin with a story.”

Jim exhaled slowly and pulled himself together. Sam needed the information. They both did. “There are a number of versions of this story, but…”

Dean looked like he was ready to start hitting if Jim didn’t start getting to the point.

“Before man there were others. Three species, three sets of siblings with gifts and powers that set them apart. They were originally given leadership over man, but they squabbled over who was greater, over which gifts were of greatest benefit to man. Over time, they procreated and spread. They lay with men and women and spread their gifts into humanity. 

“When they saw what became of these children, how they were feared and revered, there was disagreement about how to proceed. One of the three demanded they all be killed and that they never mix with human kind again. Another saw the potential for amazing power if ever the three bloodlines were mixed. The last urged caution and condemned the others for rush to judgment.”

Jim wiped his face with one hand. His stomach was roiling. Neither Sam nor Dean moved. “It is said that God was displeased and separated them, commanding that they never be one. The first of them repented and withdrew from the earth to serve God. The second rebelled and withdrew from God to serve themselves. The last chose exile and solitude, taking with them those human children they had created.”

Jim licked his lips. So far all he’d said was myth, easily dismissed. He stood, pacing to the window and back again. “The brotherhood was tasked with tracking the bloodlines through humanity, ensuring that where the gifts existed, they were trained, and that the bloodlines were never crossed.”

He folded his arms. “When it happens, the resultant child is powerful beyond measure…and almost always dies young, whether through their own lack of control of the power inside them, or by those who fear them.”

Sam was shifting, standing. “Like your brotherhood?”

Jim nodded. “Yes, unfortunately.”

Sam exhaled and met his eyes. “So, you’re saying I’m one of these…that somehow the bloodlines got crossed?”

Again Jim nodded. “Yes. I think some of my superiors suspected, and that’s why they were so adamant that we watch you, even when you showed none of the early signs.”

It was Dean’s turn to stand, pacing. “Wait. Wait. This doesn’t make any sense. Sam’s blood is the same as mine. If all of this is true, why don’t I have these…gifts?”

“That’s where things get complicated…more complicated.” Jim sighed and pulled his hand back through his hair. “You have gifts too, Dean. They just aren’t the same as Sam’s. In order to protect humanity, the children of these bloodlines are born in sets of two. The first paves the way, guards and protects, serves as a lightening rod for the second, keeps them grounded. If any survive to adulthood, it is because this bond is greater than any human bond. Always two boys or two girls. Always together.”

“Which is why you were assigned when I was born.” Sam said, rubbing at his head. “They weren’t worried until there were two of us.”

Jim nodded, offering a small smile. “Your mother was a second child, her older sister died when she was still very small. We speculated that was why her gifts never manifested fully, though they had in others before.”

“So these three bloodlines…these…things…” Dean squinted at him and Jim sighed. There was no getting around telling the whole story.

“I’m sure you’ve guessed some of it Dean, you’re a smart man.”

“Obviously the rebellious ones became demons.” Sam said, scratching at his head. “Which means the repentant ones became angels.”

“And the last?” Dean asked, hands on his hips, that angry tone back in his voice. 

Jim pressed his lips together and inhaled. This was the part of the story he hadn’t been sure he believed…but if what he was hearing from the hunter community were true…He exhaled and met Dean’s eyes. “We call them the Fae.” Jim said it softly, but Dean still reacted badly, cursing and turning away.

Sightings of the Fae were rare, and hard to believe. Hunters who had gone in search of them never returned…at least not whole.

Sam reached for him and they were quiet, their heads pressed together for a long moment before Sam looked up. “So which are we?”

Jim nodded and crossed to the desk, and his bag under the desk. He pulled out a stack of papers. “It took some digging. Your mother…her line was from the angelic side. Persuasion, empathy, healing. As far as I knew when I came to Lawrence, that was all. Your father… he comes from a very old line that we had assumed was dormant. There hasn’t been an active power in the line for seven generations. We figured it had jumped to one of the more potent lines, where the various strains have been brought back together over time.”

“Let me guess? Demon?” Dean asked, reaching for the papers.

“Apparently, the older line was mixed with a newer line, over and over again, though the children never manifested gifts.”

“They were blocked.” Sam said, reading over Dean’s shoulder. “So, the bloodlines crossed.”

“I’m not done.” Jim’s voice was quiet, but he could sense the unease from Sam. He didn’t look up right away. “After your outburst at the church though Sam, I recognized that not all of your gifts were from those two lines. The shielding, the protective self-preservation, the dreams…those all come from the Fae line. So I dug. It took a while to find.”

He flipped through the papers to a certificate of adoption. “Your mother’s mother was adopted. Her genealogy was hard to crack, but in the end, it turns out that’s where the Fae comes in. First time I’d ever heard of Fae bloodlines outside of Europe.” Jim had been shocked. There had been no confirmed children from the Fae bloodlines in generations. There were those in the brotherhood that believed they were gone.

Jim scratched at the growth of beard on his face. “Then I found this.” He flipped again through the papers, stopping at a name on the birth certificate for their father’s mother. Her birth mother’s name was identical to the name of the woman who had given their maternal grandmother up for adoption.

“So Dad is…both too. Just like Mom.” Sam said, his voice trembling. 

“They come from the same line.” Jim said. “They share a grandmother…and judging from the dates, their mothers were twins. They both died before your parents married, so no one ever figured it out.”

The boys were back to leaning in to one another, sharing air as they whispered back and forth. Jim sighed and sat back, offering them what privacy he could. They didn’t have time to waste, but he could give them a few moments to adjust what he had just told them. After all, he had just changed everything they ever knew about themselves. 

When Sam looked up again, he seemed drained, even more tired than when they got here. “What does this mean…for us?”

Jim was at the end of what he knew. Everything else was speculation. “The demon that killed your mother…I think he was planning you. I think he had a hand in making sure that the three bloodlines mixed. There’s evidence that he wanted you trained up like a hunter…and that might be the only reason he killed her…your mother. He wants you for something.”

“Well, he can’t have him.” Dean said defensively. “Not without killing me first.”

“Dean, please…” Sam’s voice was needy and hurt. 

“I told you Sam, I’m all done sitting around and letting you protect me. I’m obviously supposed to be the one protecting you.”

Sam turned toward the window. “Are you expecting company?”

“Only Father Perina.”

Sam shook his head. “Priest maybe…” His nostrils flared. “He’s through your first perimeter. Coming fast.”

Jim stood and went to the office door, checking the hallway. “Come with me.” He eased out into the hall and down into the choir’s robe closet. “In here.” He pulled a flashlight off the shelf and handed it to Dean. “There’s a tunnel. Follow it to the end. It comes out near the creek. You can double back around and get to the car once I draw him inside.”

Dean nodded, but Sam was squinting at him. “He doesn’t know we’re here, but he suspects. As soon as he sees the car…”

Jim tried not to imagine that. The only thing that might spare him was the fact that they were on sanctified ground. Suddenly there was a hand in his and a flare of panic in his heart.

“Come with us.” Sam said urgently.

“You’ll need cover.” Jim insisted, trying to pull away.

“If you stay, he’ll kill you. Then he’ll kill your friend.” Sam’s eyes met his. “I can protect you…us.”

Jim took a step toward him, wanting to believe he could, but knowing that the chances of him surviving the next few weeks were small.

“They’ve already taken everything from you…do you want to give them your life too?”

Jim closed his eyes and shook his head, following Sam into the dark without looking back.

 

The nightmares had been bad. Sam’s head still hurt from the last of them and from Dean pulling him out of them. His touch had been gentle, but that hadn’t mattered. The way memory had weaved in with visions of what was to come had left him reeling, throwing up what little food he’d managed to eat and wishing he could crawl into a dark, dark place and drug himself into oblivion.

He pushed the sunglasses up higher on his nose, into his face. His hand was on Dean’s back, holding his belt. Jim was behind him. He could feel the discomfort, fear and anguish rolling through him. 

“He’s in the church.” Sam whispered to Dean. “Give me a sec.” Sam reached out for the doors of the church, reached inside the locks. It may be a simple thing he’d learned from one of Missouri’s friends, but he’d found it came in handy. “He’s locked in. Go.” 

Dean crouched low and sprinted for the car, easing it open. Sam reached behind him for Jim’s arm and pulled him toward the car. Then the engine was roaring to life and they were pulling out. Sam could feel the priest—alarm, anger. Shots slammed into the door of the church, shattering the wood.

Dean just pressed harder on the gas and they were out on the main road before the priest had even gotten through the door. Dean merged them into traffic and sent them into the heart of the city, the easier for losing a tail.

Sam’s stomach lurched as Dean twisted the car around and headed for their motel. “Just need to clean up, hit the road.” Dean said over his shoulder to Jim. “Probably shouldn’t hang around here for long.”

“He wasn’t alone.” Sam said. There were others searching other churches. “They aren’t happy with you.” Jim looked a little green around the edges. 

Dean stopped them a block from the motel so he could scope the place out. “Anything?” he murmured to Sam who shook his head. 

“Not that I can tell.”

Dean was concerned for him, Sam could feel it without meeting his gaze. “I’ll sleep on the road Dean. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll go in, get our stuff. You two wait here. Call me if anyone comes snooping.” Dean pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead and got out, jogging toward their room. 

Sam turned to Jim. “Now that he’s gone for the moment…What…what are we going to do about me?”

Jim sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Honestly? I don’t know Sam. I mean…if I didn’t know you…if I didn’t know what you’ve already overcome in your life…I’m not sure I’d believe you could…be saved.”

Sam nodded. He was afraid of that. Afraid that there was no hope for him. He would be angry, if he had the energy.

“Sam, what I do know is that you need to take care of yourself. You need to sleep, eat…get yourself healthy. You’ll never control it if you’re falling apart.” Jim leaned over the seat, brushing a hand over Sam’s forehead. “I know someone…he’s…not friendly, but he’s the only one I can think of that might be able to help.”

“You trust him?”

Jim shook his head. “No. Not really, but he’s got no love for the brotherhood, and he’s worked with the kids we brought to the training center. He’s good.” Jim sighed. “I’m not even sure he’ll see you. But it’s worth a shot.” 

Sam nodded. “Okay. We’ll try. But he’s the last one. All these teachers seem to do is wear me down…” And then when he’d walked away then came the headaches and the nightmares. 

Dean opened the back door and tossed their duffles into the back seat beside Jim, then got in behind the wheel. “Here. It’s the last we’ve got, but I’ll get us more.” He dumped a combination of pills into Sam’s hand, pain killers and sedatives.

“Dean—“

He held up his hand. “You said you’d sleep. I know just looking at you that you won’t unless you take those.” He pushed Sam’s hand toward his mouth, then handed him the bottle of water.

He might have argued, but he was too tired for that too. Instead, he nodded, tossed the pills in his mouth and washed them down. He didn’t want them, but at least he’d sleep.

 

Gabe was hunkered down in the dark corner of the bar, hiding behind his laptop. Caleb and his father were at the bar talking to Ellen. So far he hadn’t seen Jo, but he figured it was only time. And Jo was pretty much the last person he wanted to see.

He got his email open and started sorting. He’d been offline for almost two days, driving through backwaters with no wi fi to steal. He kind of thought his father and Caleb were conspiring to keep him off the computer so his arm would heal. His inbox was bursting at the seams. 

He skimmed over the college buddy emails and the random stuff from non-hunters he knew, then spotted the one from Sam. He opened it, his blue eyes flicking over the short message.

_“Gabe, good work. Thanks. Taking a side trip. Will be a few days. Wait at the Roadhouse. Sending everyone to you. Sam.”_

Every email Gabe got from Sam was shorter than the one that came before. Gabe chewed on his lip, contemplating whether he was ready to forgive Caleb enough to relay the message…and maybe angle for Caleb to join him for a walk. All in the interest of strengthening his leg.

Caleb was looking at him, as if he had said the last bit out loud. Gabe closed his computer and leveraged himself up. “Got a message from Sam,” he said as he approached the bar. “He says we hang tight and wait here. He’ll be a few days.”

“Ellen was just telling us that Bobby and John are on their way. Joe should be here in a few days too.” Allen said.

“Well I hope Sam can make more out of the stuff I sent him than I’ve been able to.” Gabe said. “For all I can tell we’re heading for an apocalypse.” He shook his head, then caught Caleb’s eye. “Up for a walk? I need to stretch my leg after two days in the car.”

“Yeah, sure.” Caleb pushed back from the bar and waved to Ellen as he joined Gabe in heading for the door. “A walk, eh?” he asked as they got outside.

“At least until we’re out of earshot.” Gabe returned, grinning. He tried not to limp as they moved across the parking lot. “There’s a little spot down this way.” 

“A spot…for what?” Caleb grinned, ruining the innocent look he’d been trying for. Gabe swatted at him. 

“It’s been days.”

“Traveling with your father.” Caleb reminded. Gabe took his hand and put it on his cock, which had started hardening as soon as they were out of the Roadhouse.

Caleb chuckled. “Doesn’t that get in the way of the whole walking part of this adventure?”

Gabe growled and stopped. They were far enough. No one should come looking here. There were trees, a boulder big enough to lay on. He grabbed Caleb’s shirt and pulled him in to kiss. “I want to taste you.” Caleb sighed into Gabe’s mouth and pressed Gabe’s hand to his own groin, and the hard cock inside his jeans.

“Want you to fuck me Gabe…enough blow jobs and quickie hand jobs in the bathroom when Allen goes for coffee in the morning.”

Gabe raised an eyebrow at the tone in Caleb’s voice. The last time they’d tried for full contact, Gabe hadn’t been able to maintain because of his injuries and it had left them both unsatisfied. Caleb had finished him off with a blow job after masturbating himself to Gabe’s instructions, but they hadn’t been alone long enough since to try again.

Gabe hooked a finger in Caleb’s belt and dragged him toward the boulder. “Wish I could have you naked and collared for me, Caleb…love the way you look like that…on your knees for me…”

“Now time for that.” Caleb’s voice was tight, scratchy. His fingers scrambled at his belt, loosed his zipper.

“Lube?” Gabe’s own voice was a little dark and needy. 

“Pocket.” 

Gabe slid a hand into Caleb’s pocket and came out with a pillow packet of lube. “Nice.”

Caleb was already letting his jeans slide down and bending forward but he grinned over his shoulder. “Been waiting for this too.”

Gabe drizzled lube over his cock and smeared it around, then used those fingers to push into Caleb, who started. “Warning?”

“Sorry. Want.” Gabe responded. He worked his fingers in and out just enough to avoid hurting him, then lined his cock up and sank into Caleb’s ass. It was a tight fit, and it felt so good after so long. Caleb groaned and reached for him, his hand closing around Gabe’s hip and pulling him closer.

This was going to be over way too fast. Gabe slid his cock out slowly, squeezing at the base to try to back off a little. As he pushed back in, Caleb’s other hand slid under to fist his cock. “God, Caleb. Needed this so long.” He closed his eyes and started moving his hips a little more, sliding out before snapping back in.

Caleb grunted with each stroke and Gabe knew he was pulling on his cock with every thrust inward.

“Harder Gabe…need it.”

“Yeah baby, I got you.” Gabe fisted his good hand in Caleb’s shirt, using it to pull Caleb back onto his thrust. The sounds of Caleb’s grunting and the slap of skin to skin filled the air, punctuated by Gabe’s panting. “Fuck. Fuck.” 

He collapsed forward as he came, pressing Caleb’s hand and cock against the rock beneath them. Caleb shuddered and bit his lip as he came, the smell of it lifting on the breeze.

Gabe kissed over the sweaty cotton of Caleb’s shirt and moved to push himself up, freezing as he realized that they weren’t alone. Caleb pushed up and froze too.

Jo stood there staring, her mouth open, her eyes wide. 

“Oh my god.” Gabe pushed Caleb back down so that he wouldn’t be exposed any more than he was standing there with Gabe’s cock up his ass. “Jo! Turn around!”

She made a strange sound and covered her face. She was shaking her head as she turned away. “You…I heard…your voice…I…I…” She shivered and started running toward the Roadhouse.

Gabe pulled back and got himself tucked in. Caleb did the same, his face red. “My father is going to kill me.” Gabe shoved a hand through his growing hair. It wasn’t back to its full shaggy glory, but it was getting long. 

“Maybe she won’t say anything.” Caleb said, squinting after her.

“She won’t have to.” Gabe countered. “He’ll just need to see her face.” He turned to look at Caleb. “And, I’m fairly certain we smell like sex now.”

“On the bright side, I don’t think you need to worry about her hitting on you now.” Caleb said with a chuckle as they headed back.

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Gabe rolled his eyes. His leg was starting to throb as they got to the door. Ellen was already trying not to laugh. He could see it in the way she pressed her lips together. His father turned to look at them with a raised eyebrow.

He tried to just walk past them and head for Ash’s old room where Gabe had planned on sleeping. “Gabe?”

He stopped and turned to his father. “Dad?”

“Everything okay?”

“Fine.”

“Good walk?”

Gabe closed his eyes. “I’m…gonna go take a shower.”

Caleb touched his shoulder. “I’ll help with the splint.”

Gabe turned and headed for the room, blushing as the laughter bled past the closing door.


	3. Battles,  A Broken Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean deal the way the always do, with sex and not really talking. Gabe is feeling a little uncertain of himself and Caleb, and Caleb works to reassure him. Sam heads up the mountain to seek out the man Jim thinks can help him.

Furniture rattled around him, but Sam couldn’t pull himself out of the dream, couldn’t shake free of the yellow eyed demon looking out at him from his father’s eyes.

_”Come on Sammy, let me show you how to really use that anger.”_

His smile was sickening, leering. Dean’s blood dripped from his lips, from his fingers. _”He’s jealous, you know? Your daddy…he wants you…wants to feel the power you have, wants me to touch you._

His father’s hands grabbed him, pulled him close, touched him…and suddenly Sam was naked and broken, bruised and shivering. “No!” Hands and cocks surrounded him, thrust into him, while the demon laughed with his father’s voice. “NO!”

“Sam.” Dean’s hands were cool on his face, his voice calling Sam out of the dream. His lips were soft, pressing against Sam’s brow. “Sammy, wake up.”

Sam’s eyes opened and for a minute his dream was real, Dean’s hands were those of any one of his abusers and Sam flailed. Glass shattered somewhere nearby and the bed shook.

“Sammy, come back to me.”

“Dean?” Sam panted through the fear, the memories and sat up slowly. “Dean.” His hands caught on Dean’s, held them to his face, cementing himself in reality, in the moment. He licked his lips and nodded. “I’m okay.”

“For the moment.” Dean said. “What about next time?”

Sam kissed the palm of his hands and moved away, getting out of bed, then stopping cold at the sight of glass on the floor under what had been a mirror. Dean wasn’t happy with the idea of Sam going up the mountain alone.

“Maybe there won’t be a next time. Maybe this is the real thing.” Sam said softly.

Dean’s hand grabbed at Sam’s, pulled him back to the bed. “You don’t believe that.”

“I want to.” Sam turned into Dean’s embrace. If this wasn’t it, Sam was doomed. If the Quem Patrocinorus didn’t kill him, the demon might…or Sam might just kill himself.

“Just tell me why.” Dean said, caressing over Sam’s cheek. “You and me, just like always, right? Wasn’t that the moral of Jim’s story?”

Sam smiled and kissed Dean. “I thought you didn’t believe Jim’s story.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying I do. But, that part I get. You and me. Stronger together.”

Sam really didn’t have an argument with that. He knew Dean was right. They were stronger together. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Dean was kissing over his skin, up to his ear. “You and me, Sammy. Just like we were meant to be.”

Sam wanted to tease him for the sentiment, for sounding like a girl, but Dean’s hands were on Sam’s thighs, caressing up his stomach, urging Sam to lay back down. His kiss was urgent, chasing away the thoughts of demons and destinies and the ordeal. His hand slid down to Sam’s cock, warm as it stroked through his boxers.

Sam whimpered a little as flashes of memory invaded the moment. “Right here, Sammy.” Dean whispered. “Look.”

Sam opened his eyes, unsure of when he’d closed them. Dean’s face was hovering above his, his eyes bright. “Right here.”

Sam nodded, his legs falling open as Dean coaxed his cock out of his boxers. “Want to feel you Sam.” Dean said, licking over Sam’s lips until Sam surged up to take his mouth. He reached for his brother’s boxers and together they worked them down until Dean kicked them away. Dean shifted, reaching over Sam for the small bag on the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube and slicking up Sam’s cock. “Want to feel you inside me.”

He wanted to warn Dean off, remind him the last time they’d done this they’d both had the nightmares, but his hand felt so good, and Sam knew his ass would feel better, and then Dean was on top of him, slowly sinking down him, his mouth open, his eyes shut.

“Dean. Look.”

Dean’s head snapped forward, his eyes opening and connecting with Sam’s. “Right here, Dean.”

Dean’s hands landed on Sam’s shoulders and he lifted up. They gasped as one as Dean sank back down. Sam could see flashes of memory that Dean pushed away, holding on to Sam, their eyes locked together.

Sam reached for Dean’s cock, earning a grunt as he pulled down its length as Dean pulled up. “Sammy!”

Sam grinned and repeated the motion, making Dean curse and grab at Sam’s wrist. “You and me Dean.” Sam said softly, twisting his hand at the end of his stroke.

“You and me.” Dean repeated, moving a little faster now. Sam pushed his toes into the mattress and fucked up into him, his cock twitching and filling Dean up with come just before Dean’s cock spilled out onto Sam’s stomach.

Sam’s eyes closed as the orgasm started to fade, but opened them quickly when his mind filled with images of Dean like he’d been when Sam first found him. They’d come so far. Dean knew who he was now. He remembered.

He remembered and he still wanted this. Still wanted them. Fucked up as it was, Sam found comfort in that as Dean rolled off the bed and shoved his feet into his boots so he could clean up, himself first, then the glass.

Sam sat up as Dean tossed him a washcloth. “I’m still going,” he said softly.

Dean just nodded and worked at cleaning up the broken mirror. Sam could feel his disappointment, but he could also feel the growing acceptance. Dean would realize it was for the best. Eventually.

 

 

“It’s for the best, Gabe.” Caleb said, turning to face Gabe’s pissed off face. “Your father’s uncomfortable like this…and after Jo—“

Gabe’s face went red and he rolled his eyes. “Forget Jo. And for heaven’s sake stop bringing up my father when I’m talking about sex.”

Caleb sighed and scratched at his head. “It’s going to get crowded around here. John and Bobby will be here today, and there’s already enough hunters here to worry about.”

“I’m not sleeping with all of them.” Gabe said, clearly exasperated. “Let them go find somewhere else to stay.” He crossed his arms, then winced and dropped them again. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go.” Caleb responded, crossing the room to try again to hold Gabe. “I just think maybe, for now, it’s a good thing.”

Gabe let Caleb put his arms around him and hold him for a moment.

“Are you ashamed of me?” Gabe asked suddenly, his voice small. “Of being with me?”

Caleb pulled back, frowning. “What? Why would you even think that?”

Gabe wouldn’t look at him. “I know how hunters are Caleb.” He hung his head and pulled away when Caleb tried to coax him back into his embrace. “These hunters…after what they saw, after Sam and Dean. And you.”

Caleb wasn’t sure what he meant at first. Gabe took a deep breath and turned away. “You haven’t been the same since the accident.”

“Gabe. I—“ Caleb shook his head, following him across the room. Gabe sat at his computer, turning his back to Caleb. The collar lay on the desk next to the laptop, the catalyst for this slowly disintegrating conversation. “Stop and talk to me.”

Gabe took his hands off the keyboard and fingered the collar. Caleb wasn’t sure where this was coming from until he realized what Gabe meant. He hadn’t worn the collar since the accident that had landed Gabe in the hospital. Caleb reached for the collar, his fingers sliding over the familiar leather. He lifted it slowly while he sank to his knees by Gabe’s chair.

With a soft sigh, he settled the supple leather against his neck, nimble fingers buckling it before he looked up at Gabe. “I am never ashamed of you, Gabe. You are…brilliant and beautiful and desirable. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life.”

Gabe’s hand ghosted over the collar, than cupped Caleb’s face. There were unshed tears in his blue eyes as he leaned in to brush his lips over Caleb’s.

“If I’ve been distant, it’s only because I didn’t want to hurt you.” Caleb pressed his hand to Gabe’s there against his cheek. “I felt guilty…”

Gabe nodded slowly, understanding starting to fill in the gaps. “I thought…maybe…you had changed your mind.” Gabe’s kiss was soft. “Because I wasn’t…you know…a good enough hunter.”

Caleb felt himself frowning again. He hadn’t realized Gabe was feeling so insecure. He always exuded confidence. Caleb turned his face, pressing lips into Gabe’s palm. “You are a great hunter, Gabe. I’m proud to have you as a partner.” He smiled up at him. “In both senses of the word.”

Gabe’s smile was lopsided and he blinked away the tears. “Yeah?”

Caleb nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go tell your father I’m staying.”

He stood and Gabe followed, reaching for him. Gabe’s hand slid around his neck, pulling him in to kiss, while his fingers worked the buckle on the collar, slipping it off his neck. “We’ll go…but this should maybe stay here.”

Caleb blushed and nodded. He’d forgotten it already. Gabe set the leather on the desk and the headed for the door. As Caleb opened it with one hand, he reached for Gabe’s hand with the other.

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Told you. Proud.” Caleb lifted their joined hands to kiss Gabe’s fingers. Maybe it would make things harder if they came clean, but it beat hiding from the rumors and letting Gabe think that Caleb was ashamed.

 

 

“Well I’ll be damned.” Sam said as Dean sat in the booth opposite him and Jim pulled up a chair.

He turned the computer to Dean. “Tell me you don’t believe Jim now.”

Dean squinted at the screen and the grainy cell phone picture. His throat constricted. “What is that?”

Jim was leaning over him, then sat down heavy. “Fae. On the move.”

Sam was nodding, cradling his coffee to him. “According to Gabe he’s got fifteen sightings in the last month alone. He sent a package of stuff a few days ago. I’d forgotten about it.”

“A package?”

Sam pulled the computer back to him. “A bunch of files and analysis. He’s been tracking activity, trying to give us a location to start from.”

“Start what exactly?” Dean asked. Some days he still felt like he was playing catch up with Sam.

Sam looked up at him. There was something haunted in his eyes.

“War.” Sam said before turning his eyes back to the computer. “Shit, demonic activity is off the charts.”

“I don’t like this.” Dean didn’t like any of it, from Jim’s goddamn story to Sam’s power or the idea of war with demons and fucking fairies. He most certainly didn’t like the idea of Sam going off to meet some damn psychic trainer who was so psycho even Jim’s fucking brotherhood had kicked him out. Most especially Dean didn’t like Sam going alone.

“Stop.” Sam said quietly.

“Get out of my head.” Dean groused, pushing his coffee away.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Sam countered. “I’m going.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not.” Sam looked up at him, but Dean wasn’t ready to back down.

“How am I supposed to protect you if I’m down here and you’re up there?”

Sam closed the computer and stood. “You’re not. You’re supposed to stay safe and figure out what all of this means.” He handed the computer to Dean. “And keep him safe.” He pointed at Jim. “Quem Patrocinorus knows we’re here. They’ll come looking.”

He kissed Dean’s forehead, then his nose and lastly, his lips, letting his tongue slip out to caress Dean’s mouth. “I’ll be back in two days.”

Dean watched him go, then flicked his gaze to Jim. He looked a little perturbed at the public display of two brothers kissing like lovers, but looked away when he realized Dean was waiting for him to say something. “Sorry.”

Dean sort of chuckled. “You’re sorry? We’re the ones making you uncomfortable.”

“You know I love you boys like you were my family, right?” Jim asked suddenly.

It was Dean’s turn to be uncomfortable. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jim licked his lips. “I was…put off by it. At first. But, after all you’ve been through and with this bond…” He sighed and looked away. “I’m wondering if it wasn’t meant to be.”

Dean frowned at him. He wasn’t sure he believed in destiny any more than he did fairies or angels. “What? Because some of some myth about demons and shit?”

Jim shook his head. “Most pairs don’t make it, Dean. They kill each other, they get put down. The few that live past puberty have a connection, something more than brothers or sisters. I don’t think any of them take it where you two have…but I’m wondering now if that won’t be what gets you both through this.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he chose to turn his attention to the computer, popping it open and pulling up the image Sam had shown him. Tall men with hard faces among trees. “So, Fae?”

Jim nodded, seeming to accept the shift in topic. “Yes. We don’t know much about them anymore. They’ve been in hiding for thousands of years.”

“There’s folklore.” Dean said, squinting at a list of links Gabe had provided. “Some information from hunters who tracked them.”

“Hunters who never returned.” Jim amended. “If the Fae are coming, we can be pretty sure that this is going to be a battle to remember.”

 

 

Sam could feel him. There were trees and rocks and animals and him. Solid, strong. Irritated by Sam’s presence.

He stopped in a clearing and waited. Sam tried to center and calm himself the way Missouri had showed him. Tried to block out everything but the very center of his being, the part of him that was wholly and completely his own.

It was an exercise in control, one that seldom worked the way he thought it was supposed to, but was sometimes enough to keep the overwhelming surges of power at bay.

He settled, pushing away thoughts and memories as they surfaced, letting his mind fill with emptiness, a contradiction that had taken him a long time to come to terms with. When the world around him became shades of grey with trails of color and light, he turned his mind to analyzing what he now knew about himself, about Dean and their father and even their mother.

Dean was his solid ground, the one thing he could hold on to when everything else was falling apart. Sam could sense him, even now, miles away. If he thought hard enough, Dean would feel him too. Sam was sure of it.

His father was further away and Sam couldn’t fell him, could only see him as he’d been when they’d dropped him with Bobby…miserable and still healing. The image of John shimmered and when his head lifted, his eyes turned yellow.

Sam started, almost losing control. The rage began filling him, spilling into his gut and making his fingers itch. Sam swallowed and inhaled, pushing it away. The rage led to destruction. He pushed it back behind a wall in his head.

“Impressive.”

Sam felt the wall go up, felt it knock the man off his feet. He opened his eyes and fought to control it, finally succeeding and getting to his feet. “I’m sorry.”

The man was pulling himself up off the ground. He wasn’t what Sam had expected. He was younger than Sam had thought he’d be, maybe thirty-five, with long red hair pulled back in a ponytail and a scruffy red beard over sunburned skin.

Sam reached to help him, but he pulled his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry.” Sam was off kilter. He couldn’t feel the man now, in fact everything felt off…wrong. He grabbed at his head. The lancing pain that stabbed through him knocked him to his knees.

Then, just as suddenly, it was gone and Sam was staring up at the man Jim had sent him to find. “Murphy’s got nerve, I’ll give him that.”

Sam rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he climbed to his feet. “He sent me to find you…said you could help me.”

The man snorted. “That’s rich. Your nose always bleed like that when it hits?”

Sam hadn’t even felt the blood. He wiped at his nose and nodded. “When the pain hits, yeah.”

“Good.” He crossed his arms and looked Sam over. “Boy, you are a mess.”

There was an odd sort of pop and Sam’s senses came rushing back to him. He reeled a little. “Best get you up on out of here before you attract attention.” He turned and started walking away. Sam scrambled to catch up.

“Where are we going?”

He gestured up ahead. “Sacred ground. So I can look you over.”

“Sacred ground isn’t enough.”

He stopped and turned to Sam, his face set and hard. “This ground is. Just follow me, you’ll understand.”

It wasn’t long until Sam did understand. It was subtle at first, but the feeling grew. Like a church or cemetery, but more. And more. As they came up over the rise, Sam felt something he hadn’t since the exorcism. Safe.

“Nothing gets in here without me saying so.”

“I can tell.” Sam licked his lips. “I’m Sam.”

The man held up his hand before Sam could say more. “No offense, but I don’t need to know your life story. You’re here to keep your head from exploding and killing you and maybe others. I get that.” He looked Sam over again. “You can call my Brian. And that’s all you really need to know about me.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure he liked this guy.

“Here’s my rules. You hurt me, I’m done. You pry into my head, I’m done. You blow up my shit, you buy me new shit. You tell anyone about me, I’ll kill you and that brother you’re trying to protect.”

“How did you—“

“Murphy sent you here because I’m good. And you are still a mess. You agree to my terms?”

Sam nodded, though he was a lot more uncertain than he’d like.

“Good. Then let’s get started. You don’t have much time before you self-implode.”


	4. Battles,  A Broken Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby calls John on his shit, Sam works hard to control himself and Dean worries.

John stood alone in the bedroom where once his boys had slept. If he closed his eyes he could almost see them there on the bed, Dean curled protectively around his brother, despite the fact that Dean was just as broken as Sam. Maybe more so in many ways.

That had been before he knew what Sam was, before the exorcism John had hoped would relieve his overwhelming guilt. Sam had been close to taking his own life. Now John had to wonder if maybe that wouldn’t have been the better option.

His phone rang and he jumped, reaching for it and silencing it without answering. It was only Dean again, wanting to know if he was okay. John didn’t know how to answer that question, so he chose not to answer.

Slowly, he moved over to the bed, sinking onto it as if in pain. He should be in pain, physical pain to match the emotional pain. This was his fault. He’d been a lousy father, dragging those boys all over the country. Shoving them together in the back seat of a car or the cramped quarters of some motel, never realizing what he was doing to them.

Never knowing what evil was lurking inside Sam.

“You’re a goddamn idiot.” Bobby’s voice said. There was a heavy thud on the bed beside him and John looked, finding his journal there.

“What do you think—“

“No. You don’t get to play all hurt and wounded, John. Not this time. Someone had to figure out what was going on it that thick skull of yours.”

John reached for the journal, pulled it to him. “Bobby—“

“Demons lie.”

He looked up at his friend. He knew that of course. He knew that. But he’d seen Sam. Seen what he would become. “Sam—“

Bobby hit him. Hard. A solid right fist to the jaw.

“Sam is out there fighting for his life. And if the things that happened to him weren’t bad enough, he has all of this other shit to deal with, the psychic shit and people trying to kill him and a goddamn demon who wants to use him, and a brother he’s trying to protect. Any normal person would have folded a year ago, John. And you’re sitting in the dark with your thumb up your ass contemplating--“ He gestured at the journal.

“I wasn’t planning on killing him.” John said softly, rubbing at his jaw. He had, in fact considered it…but deep down he knew he never could.

Bobby’s eyes were flashing. “That boy of yours is strong, John. If anyone can come through this, he can. But not if the people he loves are hell bent on throwing him to the wolves.”

“You didn’t see what I saw Bobby.” John stood, though he lacked the conviction to go toe to toe with his friend. He scrubbed over his face with one hand. “The power. It’s incredible. If he falls…if he fails…that power falls into the hands of a demon. Not just any demon, the demon. The one that killed Mary.”

Bobby sighed. “I know. I do. But the only way Sam is failing, John, is if we fail him first.” John shook his head and moved away. He wasn’t ready to get hit again. “Your boys still need you.”

John shook his head, feeling the denial run through his whole body. “I’ve done enough—“

Bobby yanked him backwards and John staggered until he had fallen back to the bed. “I just got off the phone with Dean, who was frantic because he hasn’t heard from you in weeks, and Sam’s off learning how to not explode and Jim’s fucking left the church. There are demons gathering and Fae sightings, and if Gabe is to be believed goddamn fucking angels. Get over your goddamn self and your fucking self pity.” Bobby’s face was red and John could only stare up at him.

“Yeah, things suck for you. You got caught being a dickhead and got some angry bear spirit and a fucking demon crammed up your ass and little bits of computer chips sewed into your head. Big fucking deal. Your boys had it worse, and with the information Jim gave them and the stuff Gabe’s put together, the whole fucking thing may come down to them. So suck it up and get your head back in the goddamn game, or so help me John Winchester, I’ll put you down.”

John stared at him. He’d never heard so many words out of Bobby’s mouth at once. He’d seen him this angry, not usually at him. “I don’t know how.” John finally said, looking away and sagging into the mattress. He felt old and brittle.

“You can start by calling Dean.” Bobby said, his face softening. “He’s going crazy out there. Then you can take a shower, shave that shaggy ass face and get your ass down to dinner.”

John nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. After that, you need to have a sit down with the boys. They’ve got intel you need.”

 

 

 

Sam’s body burned. He could _feel_ Brian pushing him, could feel the sting of the air, the earth solid and yet moving beneath him. He was supposed to be letting them in, not pushing them away, but his instincts were to push.

He took a shallow breath and focused on the earth first, cool and strong, pungent, soft, dark. It was blessed, sanctified by powerful magic. It hid them from the supernatural world that was waiting just outside the sacred space. His hands sank into the dirt and he was solid like the ground, he was strong. It was a part of him.

“Good.” He could hear Brian distantly. He tried for the air next, the wind. It was elusive, sliding away when he would have grasped for it. “Let go. Stop trying.”

Easy for him to say. Sam licked his lips and nodded. Let go. He exhaled and inhaled slowly. The air rushed into him, around him, passed through him. “Much better.”

Brian…the sense of Brian moved in and Sam panted with the exertion. He let go, spreading his arms wide, making space within and without until Brian passed through him without ever getting inside him.

Sam collapsed to the damp ground, panting and sweating as Brian threw a towel at him. “Not bad Winchester. It takes most of you brain-kids months to handle one of those exercises.” He’d learned enough about Brian to know he wasn’t like Sam. His gifts had nothing to do with angels or demons or fae. He was an anomaly, like the others Sam had been searching out, only far more gifted and trained.

Sam nodded wearily, his eyes closed. His skin screamed at the touch of fabric, the grass. His head pounded. His nose was bleeding again. It was dark. Again. He’d lost track of time, but he hadn’t slept, had barely eaten and he felt like he’d been thrashed by a 600 pound Sumo wrestler.

Brian chuckled. “That’s good. It means you’re still alive.”

“Why is it you’re allowed to pry into my head, but I can’t see into yours?” Sam asked, sitting up slowly.

“Because I’ve got secrets to keep, and you’re here to learn.” He lit a cigarette and took a drag from it. “Nothing you have in your head can rival what’s in mine. I don’t need you dragging that shit back up. Took me way too long to lock it down.”

“You don’t know what I’ve got locked down in mine.” Sam said, half in challenge. Not that he wanted to get into a pissing contest with him, but Sam had been off balance since meeting him and it was wearing on him. “Trust me when I say that we’ll both be better off if you don’t pry too deep.”

Brian raised an eyebrow and puffed on his cigarette. “Alright. Let’s explore that for a minute.”

Sam was pulling himself up to standing, but Brian waved him down and came to sit opposite him. “Whatever you got locked up, that where all the rage comes from?”

Sam nodded a little hesitantly. “Yeah, I guess.”

“See, here’s the thing. The demon bit inside you? That’s where it lives. The rage, it’s like a thick juicy steak that never ends for it. Draws strength from it.”

“Which is why I need to control it.”

Brian shook his head with a smile. “That’s what Murphy and his boys want you to think. This isn’t about control. Not really. It’s about embracing who you are.”

Sam frowned at him, shaking his head. “No. It’s too dangerous. I’ll kill…everyone.”

“Nah, well…okay, right now, if I let you walk away, you probably would. But it isn’t just about the rage. That’s part of the equation, yes. But the demon isn’t all that you are. You’re angel and Fae too. Embrace them all, let them mesh and meld and even old Yellow Eyes himself won’t be able to touch you.”

“Is that even possible?”

Brian tapped his knee. “It is. And you’re almost there. It’s time to concentrate on letting them out, rather than holding them in.”

“More letting go?” Sam asked.

Brian grinned at him. “Now you’re getting the hang of this. Let’s start with demon boy.”

“Can’t we start with the angel boy?” Sam asked, exhaustion pulling at him.

“Nope, demon is closest to the surface, you have the strongest catalyst for it.”

“Okay, what do I do?”

“Get angry.”

“What?” Sam looked up in confusion as Brian got up and moved, angling Sam away from the path that he presumed went to Brian’s place.

“Close your eyes and open the doors to those things you’ve got locked up. Immerse yourself in them. Let the rage rise and fill you, let it do what it does naturally.”

Sam didn’t think that was a good idea, but he felt Brian shielding himself and stepping back. “Okay. But it isn’t going to be pretty.”

“I’m counting on it.” Brian took another step back as Sam exhaled and pulled inside himself. “Just let it go.”

Fear stabbed at him at the thought. Every time the rage got the better of him, Sam destroyed things. He took a deep breath and thought back to that first time, in the bedroom at Pastor Jim’s. It had come out of him faster than he could control it, faster than he could identify it. Pictures of Ash had sent him reeling back down the halls of memory and landed him in a dark place filled with beatings and rape and helplessness.

Like light creeping through a slowly opening door, images started to come, blood, bruises, flashes of men and cocks; sounds of leather against skin, whimpering, begging.

“Stop trying to control it.” Brian said behind him.

Sam took a deep breath and consciously forced himself to let the images come, let his mind fill with the rage and fury. He squeezed his eyes shut and his hands fisted in the grass under him as it came, a fire raging through him, boiling his blood and when he screamed under the pressure, he felt it lash out, felt it race out of him.

His senses blurred behind the wall of white fury that seemed to go on and on forever. When his body could handle no more, he collapsed backward and briefly passed out.

He woke to the feeling of Brian wiping the blood from his face. Sam pushed him away and sat up, gasping at the sight of the destruction he had caused. Trees were broken, bent at strange angles, twisted…some were little more than kindling on the ground. His head was pounding and his nose was still oozing blood. Sam took the cloth Brian was holding and cleaned himself up.

“How do you feel?”

Sam squinted at him. “My head hurts and I’m exhausted.”

Brian nodded. “Under that.”

Sam had to think about it. He inhaled and considered. He frowned. “More in control, I think?”

Brian smirked and nodded. “You have to accept that it is part of who you are, not something to be exorcised. You hungry? I’ll bet you are. Let’s go get something to eat. When you’ve had some rest, we’ll take a crack at the rest of what you’ve got lurking inside you.”

 

 

 

Dean was ready to go storming up the mountain after Sam. He’d said two days and it had already been three. The only thing keeping him was the fact that alone, Pastor Jim would likely end up dead. This brotherhood of his was damn insistent.

They were in their third motel in three days and Dean was pacing. He didn’t like waiting. His mind flashed to another time he waited, in hiding. He grimaced and shook his head.

“You okay?”

Dean turned away from Jim and went to the window. “Not really. What the fuck is keeping Sam.”

“Actually, I think it’s a good sign, means maybe he’s getting a handle on it.”

“Or that he’s up there in trouble.” Dean said.

“You can’t go up there Dean.”

He sighed explosively and turned to face Jim. “You keep saying that, but you haven’t given me a good reason not to.”

Jim started to respond, but Dean’s cell phone started to dance across the table. He grabbed at it, checking the caller ID. “Sam. It’s Sam.” He opened the phone, biting his lip. “Sam?”

His voice was weak, strained, asking for Dean to come pick him up. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

He pointed at Jim. “You stay here. I’ll be back.”

He swiped the car keys and headed out. Sam was waiting at the diner where he’d left them. Dean peeled out of the motel driveway, thinking that Sam sounded like he was in bad shape.

Sam was sitting out front of the diner when Dean pulled in. His clothes were in tatters and his face pale. When Dean got close enough he could see big black circles under his eyes.

“Sam?”

He smiled weakly and lifted a hand for help getting up. Dean helped him, holding him when Sam’s legs didn’t seem to do the job. “I’m okay…just tired.” Sam said. “Haven’t slept.”

Dean didn’t believe that’s all it was, but he helped Sam into the car. “You look like shit.”

Sam’s head lolled against the seat. “You look good.” His eyes drifted closed as they pulled onto the road. He didn’t move again until Dean had the car stopped outside the motel room door. When his eyes opened, they were unfocused, dazed. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too Sammy. I’ve been climbing out of my skin.” The door to the room opened and Jim peered out. Dean waved him back inside. No telling if they’d been found again. He got out of the car and went to Sam’s side. “Got a bed waiting for you, let’s get you inside.”

Sam leaned heavily on him as he moved them into the room. Dean got him to the bed and eased him down before moving to start taking off his shoes. Sam stirred, his eyes focusing on Jim. “You okay?”

“I should be asking you.” Jim said, coming to sit on the other side of the bed.

“Tired. Achy.”

“Did he help?”

Jim’s hand stroked hair out of Sam’s eyes. “Yeah. Think so. Don’t feel like I’m gonna explode.”

Jim smiled and looked up at Dean. “That’s good Sam.”

Sam nodded and yawned as Dean threw his shoes into the corner. “Wanna tell me why your clothes look like rags?”

Sam yawned again and lifted a hand lazily. “Just had some trouble…better now.”

Dean wanted to be angry, to yell at Sam for leaving him and running off and having trouble, but Sam’s eyes were drooping and as his face relaxed into sleep, it made him look sixteen again, and Dean couldn’t. He just sighed and pulled a blanket up over his brother.


	5. Battles, A Broken Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean and Jim finally make it to the Roadhouse where other hunters have been gathering. Sam and John share a moment, demons attack and then there's sex.

He could feel them. Hunters. Restless. The last time they had come together it had been to save one of their own. To save him and Dean. They knew this was bigger. They knew their chances weren’t good…and the fate of the world rested on them.

Okay, so that was a little melodramatic, even for Sam. He opened his eyes as the car came to a stop outside the roadhouse. He took a deep breath and set up a perimeter shield. It was getting easier to do. He kept it close to the building, strong enough that nothing more than human was getting inside.

The door opened. Their father filled the space. He was uneasy. Still had his doubts about Sam, about what Sam had become. Something had changed though. He wasn’t as depressed, not as shut down as he’d been when they’d dropped him off at Bobby’s.

“You coming?” Dean asked as he got out of the car.

“You two go. I need a minute.”

He watched as Dean embraced their father. Jim shook his hand. They went inside. Still, John stood there, watching Sam.

He could feel the last vestiges of the demon, the bear…and the technology that had let Ash and Andrew control him. Slowly, Sam got out of the car and crossed the dusty parking lot.

“Hey, Sam.” John said as he got closer.

Sam smiled and reached to embrace him, his right hand snaking up to cup over the back of his father’s neck. He held his father tight and felt for them, the bits and pieces that didn’t belong.

His father stiffened and bit off a yell, pulling away. They both looked down at Sam’s hand as John’s hand moved to the place where the plastic and metal had been. “How did you…” John’s voice trailed off as Sam shrugged.

His hand came away a little bloody. Sam turned him to look. The wound was already starting to close. “A gift from Mom’s side of the family.” Sam offered, putting the twisted line of chips and wires into his father’s hand. “I’m okay, Dad.”

John nodded absently, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I know what you saw when that demon was inside of you. I can’t change that, but it isn’t the whole picture, okay? I’m good. And we have a battle ahead of us.”

“Gabe’s saying shit about demons and angels and fucking Fae.” John said, holding the door open for Sam who nodded.

“Yeah. It’s insane.” Sam took in the room as he entered. The last time he’d been here he hadn’t been himself. He’d been despondent, suicidal even. Gabe and Caleb were standing with Dean near a table. Allen and Bobby held another table in the corner. There were five or six other hunters, and more on their way.

Sam exhaled. “This is going to get ugly.”

“When doesn’t it?” John asked.

Sam smiled. “We’ve got a day, maybe two. Then we need to hit the road.”

“Do you have anything resembling a plan?”

It wasn’t so much of a plan as it was a determination. Sam wasn’t going to let the demon start a war over him. “Something resembling one, yeah.” Sam answered after a while. “First though, we need to put all the cards on the table. I need everyone here to understand exactly what’s going on.”

Sam pulled the map out of his back pocket and headed for one of the tables. He knew everyone would gravitate toward him soon enough. He smoothed out the paper. “This is Laramie. This is where it’s going to go down.”

His father frowned at him. “Why Laramie?”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t know exactly. It just seems to be where they’re all congregating. Well, not all.” That was where the demon was sending his troops, but he wasn’t there. He was shadowing Sam. Coming to him in his dreams, in random people he happened across. He’d even made a go at Dean, but Dean was so focused on Sam the bastard didn’t stand a chance.

“Tyrone and Belle are in Laramie already.” Gabe said as he and Caleb joined them. “I talked to Belle an hour ago. She said that they sightings are off the charts. Demon possessions, they can’t stay on top of. They exorcise one, five more pop up.” He pointed to the south side of the map. “According to their information, the demonic signs are all along here.” He drew his finger along a stretch of land.”

Sam nodded. “That fits with what I saw.” He looked up. All eyes in the room were on him. More than a few were clearly uncomfortable. “Okay, might as well get this out of the way now. I’m sure you’ve all heard rumors.” He took a deep breath. Dean stepped a little closer, his hand on Sam’s back. “I am…have certain abilities now. Or, I’ve always had them, I just didn’t know it. I was born with them, but they were blocked by the same demonic son of a bitch that killed my mother and is brewing up this fight.”

His eyes scanned the group, feeling them out. “That might make some of you uncomfortable, maybe not even trust me. That’s okay. If any of you want out, now’s the time to do it.”

No one moved for a long time, then one of the older hunters cleared his throat. “You gonna tell us what these abilities are?”

Sam looked at him. “Able Montero, right?” When the man nodded, Sam smiled. “You were with Gordon’s team when they found Caleb.” Again he nodded. “You’ll get to see plenty if you come with us to Laramie. Otherwise, you’ll just have to trust me when I say that they’re there and that I intend to use them to protect people.”

“And we’re supposed to trust that?”

Sam turned to the dark haired hunter squeezing in next to Gabe. “Sonny Barker, you weren’t with us the last go round, but your father was.”

“For all the good that did him.”

Sam nodded. “I was sorry to hear he passed.”

“I’m only here because I followed a string of possessions and hauntings from Florida.”

Sam inhaled slowly, then let the air out just as slowly. “Nothing I say will make you trust me, Sonny. So, let me show you something instead.” Sam gestured to the door. Sonny followed him a little hesitantly. Outside the door, Sam pointed to the four men standing outside his perimeter. As soon as Sam appeared, they started throwing themselves at the barrier, falling to the ground only to get up and try again and again.

“They aren’t alone, but they’re the only ones who found bodies to inhabit.” Sam said softly. He couldn’t quite make out the others, but he knew they were there. “Right now, I’m the only thing keeping them from burning us out.”

Sam gave the barrier a shove, forcing them back a few more feet. “I can’t hold it forever, but they’ll wear themselves out soon.” He moved back to the table. “Of course, you don’t have to believe me.” He rubbed at his head. It was starting to hurt with the effort. “We need all the help we can get, but if you’re doubting, or carrying a grudge, you’re just opening yourself up to be a target for demons.”

“So what is the plan? Caleb asked.

“Well.” Sam licked his lips. “There’s Azazel. He’s mine to deal with. He’s the reason for this whole mess. But, he’s a demon. He doesn’t play fair. He’ll use anything and everything to get me to give him what he wants.”

“What is it he wants?” Gabe asked the question they all wanted answered.

Sam met his blue eyes. “Me.”

“But he can’t have you.” Dean said quietly, but fiercely.

“No, he can’t.” Sam agreed. “That’s what the others are there to make sure of as well. Unfortunately, they want the same thing he does.”

“By that you mean angels and Fae?” Able asked, his voice incredulous.

Sam nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“You’re asking us to take an awful lot on faith, boy.”

“I know.”

_You’re wasting your time, Sammy._

Sam closed his eyes and swallowed. “He’s here.” Sam whispered to Dean. Azazel was close by.

_They think you’re a freak. They’ll kill you in your sleep._

Sam cleared his throat. “Anyway…what we’ll need is for all of you to run interference, keep the path clear, give me space to do what I need to.”

_You still think you can beat me, Sammy? I made you what you are._

“Dean.” Sam’s hand fumbled for his brother’s, pulling him back from the table. “Finish this. I have to…” He took a deep breath. “Deal with him.”

Dean’s eyes searched his as he shook his head. “We can come back to this. Let me help you.”

“I got it. Reassure them.” There was more pressure against the barrier. “Fuck. They’re trying to get in.”

“Why now?”

Sam shook his head. His fingers twined in Dean’s. “He doesn’t want to face me in Laramie.” He didn’t know how he knew that. He just did. He also knew his barrier wasn’t going to hold. He snapped his head up. “Demons coming in.”

He dropped the barrier before they could break it, and whirled to face the door. Azazel wouldn’t come himself, he’d send the others to their deaths, just to wear Sam down. The first of them came through the door, and got a face full of holy water from Jim. Another crashed through a window and met with Bobby’s gun.

Gabe and Caleb were back to back, guns in hand.

John tackled another and Dean was pulling Sam back out of the line of fire. Sam reached inside him, feeling the connections he’d made on the mountain spring to life. “It’s about to get hot,” he warned Dean as the light burst up and out of him. Bright, white, holy light that emanated out of his skin.

One by one the demons exploded, black inky darkness pouring out of their victims and fleeing the light.

It was too much for Sam who hadn’t fully recovered from the exhaustion brought on by the training. He sagged to the floor, bringing Dean with him.

“Sam?”

_How long can you keep protecting them?_

“Long enough.” Sam muttered.

“Sam?” Dean was worried, leaning over him. Sam opened his eyes, but everything was too bright. His head hurt, his body ached. “Okay, let’s get you someplace quiet and dark.” Dean said and Sam wondered if he’d said anything out loud.

Dean helped him up, practically carrying him into some dark room where there was a bed and pillows and Sam mumbled his thanks as he fell into sleep.

 

 

Dean emerged from the bedroom and looked down at the gathered hunters. His father was clearly marking the map, assigning positions, taking charge. Dean descended the stairs and made for the bar, reaching over it for a bottle of Jack and pouring himself a shot.

When he’d downed it, he rejoined the group at the table. He had instructions from Sam he needed to relay. He waited until his father took a breath. “Gabe, you and Caleb are staying here.”

“What?” Caleb frowned at him.

“Sam said he needed you both here. He said you would know why not long after we left.” Dean knew Caleb wouldn’t like it, but Sam had been adamant about it. “Allen, Jim, Sam wants you here.” He pointed to a spot on the north bound road. “There’s an old church there. The graveyard is a target. We’ll need to box it in with salt.”

“Why exactly?” Allen asked as he leaned over to memorize the spot.

“Apparently Azazel’s army will use the dead if they can’t find enough living hosts. The ground here is no longer consecrated. Your job is to keep the zombies in.”

He relayed the rest of Sam’s instructions before he touched his father’s hand and drew him away from the others. “You okay?”

John frowned down at him. “Yeah, you?”

Dean scratched his head. “I’ll be better once this is over. Sam’s worried about you.”

“I’m good, Dean.”

He shook his head. “Not now, later. You had that fuck inside you once already. He’s twisting Sam slow. You can’t let him inside again.”

“Not like I wanted it the first time—“

Dean held up his hand. “I know, and that’s not what I meant. Just…you’ve been…upset, depressed, whatever. You need to be in control. Sam can’t be distracted by you.”

“Yeah, I get it.” John looked pissed, but he nodded and pulled a hand over his face.

Dean smiled tightly. “I’ve got something for you. Sam wanted me to have it, but I think you need it more.” He pulled the amulet out of his shirt and pulled it off. “It’s protection, strongest kind there is.”

His father took the pendant, looking at it, then up at Dean. “You sure?”

Dean nodded. “Sam’s says even old yellow eyes can’t get past that.” He clapped his father on the shoulder. “Now, I think I’m going to go see if I can catch a nap while Sam’s resting. Keeping up with him lately has been wearing me out.”

 

“You gonna finish the bottle?” Ellen’s voice was warm and her hand warmer as it slid up his arm.

“Nah.” John put the glass down with most of the whiskey still in it. “Not in the mood tonight.”

She moved closer, in between his legs, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Pity.”

John crooked a smile. “I’ve been here for four days and you haven’t wanted anything to do with me.”

“I was waiting for your head to straighten out.” Ellen said. Her kiss was soft. “Now, it looks like you’re pulling on out of here again and I haven’t scratched my itch.”

John raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that what this is?”

She tilted her head. “Are you asking me what my intentions are?”

“Maybe.” He rubbed his hands up over her back, leaning in to kiss her, letting his tongue wander over her lips.

“Maybe I just want you to warm my bed.” Ellen said softly. “Been empty a long time.”

“And when this is over?”

“You offering to settle down?”

He hadn’t really thought about it, but he missed her, this. “Maybe.”

She smiled at him softly. “How about you come to bed tonight and we’ll talk about the rest when this is over?”

 

 

 

“You’re upset.” Caleb said, his hands circling Gabe’s waist.

“Aren’t you?” Gabe asked, pouting a little and ignoring Caleb’s hands as the crept around to his zipper.

“A little.” Caleb kissed over Gabe’s shoulder. “I’m sure Sam has a good reason though.”

Gabe snorted. “Be nice if he’d tell us what it is.”

“You weren’t going anyway, so why does it bother you?”

Gabe sagged a little against him. “I was hoping I could talk you out of it.”

Caleb chuckled a little. “Rules, Gabe. We agreed. You’re in charge when it comes to sex. I’m in charge when it comes to the job.”

Gabe turned to face him, his face pinched. “It’s a stupid rule.”

Caleb kissed his pout. “It’s a good rule, Gabe.”

“Says you.”

“Okay, tell me what’s really bothering you.” Caleb said standing back. “It’s more than our staying behind.”

Gabe sighed and rolled his eyes. “What are you, my shrink now?”

“If I need to be. Talk to me.” Caleb sat down on the bed, watching Gabe pace the tight space between the bed and the desk. “Is this still about the accident?”

Gabe made a face and turned away. “No. Maybe.” He held up his splinted hand. “I feel useless.”

Caleb nodded, understanding that at least. “You’re not useless, Gabe. You’re healing.”

“I could barely fire my damn gun.” Gabe sank into the desk chair, pouting even more. “My arm hurts.”

Caleb slid off the bed onto his knees, crawling across the floor to Gabe. “Where?”

Gabe petulantly pointed and Caleb followed his finger with his lips, kissing the spot. Gabe rolled his eyes and pointed to his palm. Caleb followed, kissing over the edge of the splint and onto skin. When Gabe’s finger twitched, Caleb kissed up to its tip.

“Better?”

Gabe nodded, though he was still pouting, his lower lip jutting out. Caleb lifted up and caught it with his own lips, sucking at it until Gabe opened his mouth, his good hand pulling Caleb to him. Caleb’s hands found their way to Gabe’s groin, not surprised that he was already getting hard.

“May I?” Caleb breathed into Gabe’s open mouth and Gabe only nodded. Caleb unzipped him, his hand sliding in to guide Gabe’s cock out. It was hardening fast, and Caleb wasted nothing in his move from mouth to cock, swallowing when the tip touched the back of his throat.

Gabe’s hand on the back of his head held him there, just long enough to remind him who was in charge, then eased up, letting Caleb set the pace. He bobbed up and down quickly, feeling Gabe’s cock swell up full. He slowed then, taking him deep and holding him there, tight up against Caleb’s gag reflex because he knew Gabe liked the feeling of power it gave him.

His slide up was slow and at the top, Caleb swirled his tongue around the head, over the slit and under before taking him deep again. Gabe’s hand tightened a little on his head when Gabe sucked hard against him and Gabe gasped when Caleb’s hand closed over his balls.

His hips shifted in the chair, his bit off grunt a sign that he was close. Caleb went back to the slow sucking, his fingers fondling over Gabe’s balls. “Fuck!” Gabe thrust up once, coming in a rush down Caleb’s throat. He swallowed quickly and sat back, wiping his mouth.

“Better now?”

Gabe nodded, this time without the pout.

“Then, come to bed?” Caleb stood and held out his hand. Gabe sighed and took it, letting Caleb guide him to the bed. Caleb turned out the lights and climbed in beside him, and Gabe rolled into him, putting his head on Caleb’s shoulders.

Caleb kissed the top of his head. “You know, with us staying here, we can have sex more.” Gabe murmured as Caleb closed his eyes. “Maybe I’ll put the collar on you when they leave and keep you tied up to the bed until they come back.”


	6. Battles, A Broken Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final showdown.

“Dean. Dean.” Sam’s voice and hands were desperate, pulling Dean up from sleep.

“Shh…Sam, right here.” Dean rolled onto his back as Sam moved on top of him, his mouth moving over bare skin and up to Dean’s lips, hungry, insatiable. 

“Need.”

Fingers, lubed and insistent pressed in, even before Dean could move to make room. Sam’s face loomed over his as he sank into Dean. “Mine.”

“Yours Sam.” Dean didn’t understand the sudden need. They hadn’t been able to do much since picking up Jim, but this was far more than stored up horny.

Sam’s fingers sought out the scar, tracing the “S” on Dean’s chest. “Mine.”

Dean lifted his fingers to the “D” on Sam’s skin. “Mine,” he echoed back. He spread his legs, lifting and tilting and shoving a pillow under him to make Sam’s thrusting something more pleasurable for both of them.

Sam’s kiss was claiming, hard. “Need you to trust me.”

“I trust you Sam.”

“Need you to close your eyes Dean and trust me.” Sam thrust in and held himself inside Dean as Dean closed his eyes. Images sparked as Sam’s hand covered the “S”…the marking, the knife. Memories of brutality, torture, rape…Dean squirmed, then slowly became aware that he was seeing Sam’s memory, not his own. He saw himself kneeling, saw himself in the cage waiting for Sam to buy him. 

“Sam?”

“Trust me.”

Dean was panting as the images raced backward, through Sam’s leaving, through their first time together, their first kiss, fights with their father, pranks and food fights, training…then they were looking up into the soot streaked face of their father, racing down the stairs, flames and their father screaming…blood. Dean could taste the blood.

Then Dean wasn’t sure what he was seeing…lights and shadows, the sound of a heart. Sam was moving again, his body pressed against Dean’s. The light burst through Dean’s head, colors and brilliance…he was coming and on fire and he could taste…life and Sam and he didn’t know what the fuck was going on but it kind of felt like being born, or what he imagined being born felt like, bursting out of something and dragging in a lung full of air.

He could see the room without opening his eyes. Feel the air in his lungs. Hear the stars. Sam sighed and the sound came out of Dean’s mouth.

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Dean opened his eyes and Sam grinned down at him, sliding off slowly and collapsing to the bed. “Need you. Needed them to know…”

Dean sat up. There was no denying he was changed. Even his skin seemed to glow. “One.” Sam reached for him, pulling him close. “One…Me…” Dean could hear the words, but Sam wasn’t talking. “You…together. Only way. Together. Sleep.”

Sam was already close to sleep, his eyes closed as Dean lay beside him. He could feel every breath Sam took, his heart beating, his exhaustion. If he was still, he could hear Bobby in the room next door, snoring lightly. Ellen and his father down the hall, softly whispering. Gabe and Caleb downstairs—nope.

Dean didn’t dwell on that. There were things he never wanted to know about Gabe and Caleb. Dean could see inside Sam…see his doubts and fears, his gifts, twining around each other like strings of gold and white and silver, the tender little boy and the strong man. Dean lifted up to kiss his lips. He’d never understand what made his father fear this.

His brother was beautiful.

 

John supervised the last of the loading. His truck was weighed down with drums of water blessed by Jim and hooked into the water canon strapped to the roof. Able’s truck was nearly finished, he and Bobby were bolting the guns down.

He felt better than he had in ages, his hand still went to the spot on the back of his neck where the wires and chips had been, but he no longer could feel the remnants of them or the demon and bear they had helped control. The sleep had helped, and for a change he had really slept. 

He looked up as Sam and Dean appeared. Sam still looked tired, but his eyes scanned over things quickly. He said something softly to Dean and Dean nodded before heading off to relay whatever it was to Sonny and his partner.

Sam looked up at John and offered a smile. John jumped down beside him. “We’re nearly ready.” 

Sam nodded. “I see that. Thanks for heading things up. I wasn’t expecting that attack.”

“He isn’t going to let you just waltz in there.” John was worried for his boys, for all of Sam’s power. 

“I know. That’s why Dean and I will go ahead of you. Keep him distracted.”

“What kind of plan is that?” John crossed his arms and stared at Sam. “You’ll be exhausted before the battle starts.”

“I’ll be fine.” Sam insisted.

John wanted to smack some sense into him. “You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

Sam’s eyes snapped back to him from where they’d been following Dean. “You sound like Dean.” He smiled, a deep, honest smile. “He’s been saying the same thing.”

“Then maybe you ought to listen.”

To his surprise, Sam nodded. “Okay. What would you do instead?”

John shifted, not really expecting him to give in that easily. “Well. For starters, do something he wouldn’t expect.” Sam waited and John licked his lips. Anything they did was going to be risky. “You ride with me. Send Dean with Bobby. He’ll be looking for you together.”

Sam’s face clouded over. “We belong together.”

John nodded. “Exactly.” John looked around them. Everyone was done and waiting. “Look. Nothing we do is going to confuse him for long. He knows where we’re going. There’s only so many ways to get there.”

Sam seemed to think about it, then turned to the group of men standing in the center of the Roadhouse parking lot. “Okay.” Sam jumped up onto the back of the truck and raised his hands for attention. “This is it. We’re going to make a straight run for Laramie. We’re going to have to move fast and stick close. Two men to a vehicle, one to drive, one to watch for trouble. Dean, you’re with Bobby.”

Dean approached, his face pinched. “What?”

Sam shook his head and jumped down. “Take point, I’ll ride with Dad, see if I can keep them off our ass.”

“You sure?” Dean was obviously concerned, but Sam nodded. 

“Dad’s right.” Dean didn’t question what John was right about, and it almost seemed like they were still talking to one another, only without words. Dean pulled Sam into a hug, then turned to John.

John thumped his back and stepped back. “You take care of him.” Dean said, his voice low. “And remember what I said.”

John nodded.

“Here we go.” Sam turned to Caleb and Gabe who were standing in the doorway now. “Keep your eyes open. Just because we’re gone, doesn’t mean you’re safe here.”

“Good luck.” Caleb shook his hand, then Sam was heading for the truck.

“Lets hit it.”

 

Dean wasn’t sure about this separation idea, but even with nearly a mile between him and Sam, he could feel his brother, almost hear his thoughts, and through Sam, he could feel his father. He was strong, solid. He still had his doubts, but they were pushed back and away. There was love there, love for his boys, for the job.

Beside him, Bobby drove, his eyes scanning the horizon. Bobby felt even more solid than his father, resolved, determined. Ready to fight to the death if he had to. The others were varied in their devotion to the cause, but strong and ready for the fight. 

“There.” Dean pointed just west of the road. There was something burning.

“What is it?”

Dean shook his head. “Speed up.” Whatever it was, it was moving, a column of flame that filled the road in front of them. “Faster.”

Bobby stood on the gas pedal and they roared forward, slamming into the wall of fire and out the other side. Dean turned to watch as the others came through it too. “That wasn’t too bad.” 

He only hoped Sam knew what he was doing…and that what they were racing toward wasn’t the bloodbath he’d dreamed about the night before. Sam said he had called _them_ and Dean wasn’t sure what that meant, only that Sam seemed to think it was going to save them.

 

Gabe looked up as his computer chirped at him. “Huh. That’s weird.” 

“What?” Caleb turned from the dart board.

“It’s the controller program.” Gabe pulled the computer to him and opened the program.

“The technoserker thing?” Caleb asked.

Gabe nodded. He frowned at the screen. “I think I know why Sam wanted us to stay.”

Jo’s scream from the back brought Gabe to his feet. She came running in from the door to the back. Ellen cocked her shotgun. Gabe and Caleb moved around Jo who was pointing.

The low growl was chilling and the hair on the back of Gabe’s neck stood up.

“Gordon?” Caleb asked, looking briefly at Gabe before pulling his gun and leveling it at the doorway. Gabe shrugged and pulled his own gun. 

Gordon looked like hell, his face torn up, his clothes in tatters, the skin tied to his body matted and torn. His eyes were red as he came into the room, skimming over Jo and Ellen before finding Caleb. He sniffed the air and inched closer.

“Are you telling me he tracked us?” Caleb asked.

Gabe shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean…not really.”

Gordon cocked his head, sniffing the air more. He stiffened, blinked. “Caleb.” His voice was scratchy and hoarse. 

“Do you think he came looking for you?” Gabe asked.

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“What should we do?” Ellen asked, still tracking Gordon with the end of her shotgun.

“For starters, no sudden movement.” Caleb slowly lowered his gun. He took a tentative step closer to Gordon. “I don’t know if you can understand me, Gordon, but we’re going to try to help you.”

Gordon’s eyes flicked to Gabe, then back to Caleb. “Help.”

Caleb nodded. “Yeah, help.” He kept his voice in a nice, neutral tone. “Ellen, if you had some tranquilizers or something, that might help.”

Gordon growled as Caleb got closer, his eyes going dark. “Nice kitty.” Gabe murmured, his gun trained on Gordon. Help or no, if Gordon moved to attack Caleb, Gabe was going to put him down.

Two shots rang out and Gordon lurched, falling over with two darts dangling from his back. Ellen put the gun down and Jo ran toward her. “Good thing I keep that thing loaded.”

“I’ll say.” Gabe crossed to look down at the former hunter. “Now what?”

“Well, Sam managed to exorcise the demon and the bear out of John. Maybe he can do Gordon too?” He looked up at Ellen. “We’ll need to keep him tranquilized and locked up.”

“Basement.”

 

The town of Laramie was quiet, but Sam knew it wouldn’t stay that way. He got out of the truck and felt around him. The hunters were mostly in place. They’d lost one of the trucks on the last stretch into town when Azazel sent more of his minions to get in the way. 

Dean was already in the center of the town square, calm, ready.

Sam turned to his father. “This is it. It ends here.”

John nodded. “Watch your back.”

“You too.” 

There was gunfire to the north. Sam could feel the ones that slipped in past defenses. Night was falling and in the dark and shadows moved creatures that no one had seen for thousands of years. 

_Sammy_.

Sam closed the distance between him and Dean. Dean stood. He was already surrounded. 

_I can take him away and you’ll never see him again._

There was temptation, to use what he had now, to save Dean. Dean’s eyes met his. “Sam. I’m okay.”

Sam nodded. He kept moving. 

_I can bleed him out, right here._

“You can, but you won’t.” Sam responded. 

_You know your destiny is with me._

“Show yourself you fucking coward.”

“Ah, Sammy, is that anyway to talk to your father?” It was his father’s voice. Sam froze, watching as Dean flinched. 

Sam felt for his father, the strong solid wall of him, with the amulet that protected him. Satisfied, Sam reached for Dean, for the connection they’d built. Stronger together.

“You aren’t my father.”

“Maybe not. Maybe I’m someone else.” His voice transformed into that of James. “You belong on your knees, slave.” 

Dean shook, his mind flooding with memory. 

_Nothing. No one. Alone._

Sam moved closer, blanketing Dean in a wave of comfort. 

“You will learn to be obedient. You will learn to serve your master.” The voice was closer now, the voice of the man who had broken Dean, who had broken them both. “Have you prepared yourself for me?”

Dean shivered. Sam echoed the motion. He could feel the fingers on his skin as if they were right back there. “Dean.” 

“My poor baby,” The voice changed again. Robert. “I wish there were some other way.”

Sam tried to focus on the voice, tried to find the bastard in the dark.

“Why are you fighting so hard? Don’t you want it to be over?” Sam’s mind flashed on that moment, at his lowest point, craving the gentle touch, even though it had been Robert that had betrayed them, even though Robert was begging him to lose himself forever.

Sam swallowed hard. 

“It can all be over. I promise I’ll be so good to you. No more guilt, no more decisions…just let go. Come to me and I’ll give you everything you ever dreamed.”

There. Sam found him finally. He grabbed for him, pulling him between him and Dean. He fought and Sam’s control of the barrier was stretched. All around them he could feel the others…demons, angels, Fae. All of them come to witness this battle, and to claim whichever of them managed to win.

A wall of memory crashed over them, and Sam held on, not sure which memory belonged to him and which ones were Dean’s. Rape, torture, blood, bruises, cold, fear, anger. A lot of anger. It flooded them both, that same fury that Sam had unleashed at Pastor Jim’s.

“This is mine, Sammy. Mine.”

Another memory surfaced, Dean’s memory. His little face pressed to their mother’s swollen belly. Mother. Love. It swelled between them. Kisses and touches, the ring that she first gave to their father, who gave it to Dean, who gave it to Sam. 

“I gave you this. I made you.” The demon was rising up, shedding the human body, filling the air between him and Dean. Sam was losing control of the barrier that kept the three of them contained.

“I think they might disagree.” Sam said through clenched teeth. Outside the barrier six of _them_ stood, huge, shimmering, powerful beyond anything Sam had ever known. Somehow he knew these were the first, the primordial forces that went beyond the petty demons and angels that interfered in human affairs. Brothers, sisters. Bound by blood, created from the beginning of all things.

Azazel squealed and dove at Sam. _Let me inside you Sammy. We can rule the world, we can fuck the world._

Thunder shook the ground as Sam fell under the onslaught. Dean yelled and moved toward them, pushing against the demon. 

“Enough.”

Suddenly Sam was suspended in air, held inches from the ground by an invisible hand. Dean and the smoky blackness of Azazel were likewise floating in the air.

As one the six looked at them, heads turning in unison. “We are not amused.”

Their mouths didn’t move, but their voices made the earth quake. 

“You are no longer necessary.” And just like that, the blackness disappeared. Gone. Sam couldn’t even feel him.

“You.” Sam and Dean were pushed together. Sam grabbed for his hand. 

They were lifted and brought closer. Six faces surrounded them. There was whispering, odd sounds that shivered over his skin. 

“You are as one of us. And yet you are human. We are uncertain what to do with you.”

“I vote for putting us down.” Dean said.

They were lowered until the ground was under their feet. There was an explosion to the south. Gunfire to the north and east. 

Sam could feel the ripples as the demons and angels and Fae turned on each other with the hunters caught in the crossfire. He felt every wound, every drop of blood. “We have to stop it.” He looked up at _them_. “It has to stop.”

One of them leaned down, her eye looking into Sam. “And if stopping it means taking your lives?”

Sam squeezed Dean’s hand. “We’re ready.”

“We are?” Dean asked, pressing in close. She looked at Dean and Dean’s face paled. “I mean, yeah. What he said.”

“You would die to end this battle? Knowing that it will not end the war?”

Sam looked to Dean. After everything it came down to them. The two of them. “Yours.” Dean said softly.

“Yours.” Sam echoed, leaning in to kiss him. Their lips met, and Sam wrapped all of his power, all that they were around them. Fire and thunder and ice slammed into them. The heavens exploded and darkness rained down onto them. 

 

Dawn came creeping over the town. John picked himself up from where he’d fallen when the wave of sound had knocked him over. The town was still. Quiet.

The rain had washed the streets clean. He picked his way over fallen trees and debris. It looked like nothing more than a bad storm had blown through. “Sam! Dean!” 

He found them in the center of town, arms and legs entwined, foreheads pressed together. For a long moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. They didn’t move. Slowly the other hunters were coming, stopping and staring. 

John licked his lips. He stepped closer, not really wanting to have his worst fear realized. His boys were dead. Gone. After everything, he’d lost them and he didn’t even understand why.

He reached their feet and squatted, blinking at tears as he reached out to touch their legs. Dean coughed, his whole body shaking. Sam’s eyes popped open.

John jumped back, relief flooding through him.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was shattered, barely a whisper.

Dean’s eyes opened. He nodded slowly. “Sam.”

They looked up at John. “Dad.” They said it in unison.

“Holy shit, I thought you were dead.”

“Me too.” They said it together, then looked at one another. “Okay, that’s weird.” They sat up slowly, their movements exact mirror images. Something seemed to pass between them.

“It’s over.” Sam said, his arm sliding around Dean.

“Really over?”

They both nodded. “Really over.”

That was going to get old fast. John shook his head, then pulled them both to them to hug. “I don’t know what happened, and right now I don’t care. I’m just glad you two are okay.”

“I’m hungry.” Dean said. 

“Pancakes,” they said together, then laughed. 

“Pancakes?” John shook his head. “All that, and you want pancakes?” He laughed and turned them toward his truck. “Lets go eat pancakes.”

 

**Epilogue**

 

Sam opened the door to the basement. Gordon’s growl was low, deep. The demon inside him was afraid. He smiled. It had reason to be. He got to the bottom of the stairs and looked into the dank dark shadows. He could see the whites of his eyes.

“Hello Gordon.” 

Dean moved above him. In the days since waking up in Laramie they’d managed to not quite live inside each others skins except at night, when they melted together physically and mentally until morning.

The power that bound them lived there with them, in their skin, and together they were finding their way back to something that resembled being whole…complete. Something they hadn’t been since Sam left for Stanford. 

Sam reached into the dark, found Gordon’s throat. He murmured the words, ripped the cat and the demon out of him, extinguished them both. Gordon passed out. Sam reached in for the metal bits, urging healing into his body. 

It would take a long time for Gordon to be himself again, but at least Sam could give him the opportunity. Dean told Caleb he could come down, and he and Allen were coming down the stairs to bring Gordon up. They would clean him up, get him out of the skins and tattered clothes.

Sam followed them up the stairs, closing his eyes as Dean stepped to his side. Whole. Together. One. Their father was waiting at the door. Sam nodded. Dean’s hand closed around his and they moved together to the door. It was time to move on.


End file.
